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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27079717">Make a Wish</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MINDinINK/pseuds/MINDinINK'>MINDinINK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Natasha is a good friend, Strike Team Delta, and Barton gets one, hurt!Clint Barton, hurt!Phil Coulson, more tags added later</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:48:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27079717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MINDinINK/pseuds/MINDinINK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is the summary- Make a Wish for a scene you want to read and I‘ll try to come up with a short story for you.<br/>More rules for requests and limits at the beginning of first Chapter. </p><p>Chapter I - Strike Team Delta Hurt/comfort plus hurt!Coulson</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton / Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/ Natasha Romanov/ Phil Coulson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Make a Wish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I am kinda stuck on my other works and my boss has called me out to our main clinic in the goddamn middle of nowhere, where I‘m gonna live in a hotel room until the situation relaxes and I can go back to my actual work place. I need to focus on something else, before I can return to my other stories. So here is your chance to get a story you really wanna read. Rule are the following:</p><p>1) WHO do you want? What GENRE of situation do you want? ( sappy? Hurt/comfort? Whumping? Romance? Friendship? Action? yaddah yaddah..) Brownie points for specifics ( E.g. : Barton shoots Stark with a joke arrow. He is not amused) . </p><p>2) ONE request per person. Choice of which request to write will be made randomly.</p><p>3) Be aware that Chapters will be SMALL. No Multi chapters, unless SOMEONE ELSE than the original requesting person demands for follow up.</p><p>4) LIMITS : smut requests are possible, but more of an exception.<br/>Requests with hard triggers CAN be made, but must be accepted to be handled in a rather not too explicit way<br/>Hard no on pairings: Loki/Thor, Tony Stark / Peter Parker , Tony Stark/ Loki, Steve Rogers /Peggy Carter,  ANYBODY/ Reader, any underaged character.</p><p>5) Fandom wise: Mainly Marvel. Netflix Titans also possible. I‘ve also written Hawaii 5-0 , NCIS, The Covenant ( Seb Stan..let‘s face it. Hot in any role xD ) , COD ( yeah, I‘m weird), Supernatural... and a lot more. Just request and we‘ll see</p><p>6) Don‘t get petty if your request isn‘t chosen. I‘ll note them all down and try to do as many as possible. English isn‘t my mother tongue, have patience with little mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>Happy Requesting and Reading !!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He felt sick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Standing behind a thick glass window, without permission to enter the room, Clint Barton stared at the still form that was his mentor and friend. He was still so pale that there was little contrast between Coulson's face and the white covers pulled up to his chest. Wires and tubes everywhere, a huge bandage stuck to his right temple. His eyes next to it was swollen shut. He could see the steady signs of his heartbeat, his chest rising and falling. His oxygen number was still low. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His body was tensed head to toe as he stood there, frozen in place. The sight made his stomach turn, he felt like he would throw up any second. At the same time he was unable to move. Eerie silence surrounded him, the hallway empty and dark, despite the dimmed night lights. Three in the morning. The nurses and doctors had retreated to get some well deserved rest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no longing for sleep in him. Maybe he would have been able to rest, if he had been allowed to sit with him. They weren't allowing him in. The spot behind the glass was the closest he could get. His chest felt tight. It was still touch and go. He could still go into cardiac arrest any second. The doctors had told them that very clearly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn't lose him. He couldn't bear the idea of letting Phil Coulson go. The man who was like a father to him. Trusted. Admired. Loved in his own kind of way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An arm slipped around him from behind, caused him to tense even more, every muscle in his body locking up. A chin came to rest on his shoulder, eye staring at Coulson as well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tasha.." he breathed out, voice cracking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was pressing her body against his back, offering support and comfort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You need to move, ptichka"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He released a breath he hadn't been aware of holding. He leaned into her slightly, shoulder slumping forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can't,  Tasha. If he.."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He won't " it sounded final, like it was her decision to make and yet her voice was gentle, reassuring.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I should have seen it coming" His voice was barely more than a whisper, fear swinging in it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You were four blocks away. There was no way you could have managed"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I could have seen it, I knew where he was, if I had only…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Shhhhhh…."  She shushed him with her mouth right next to his ear. "No. You stood no chance. You know it. He knows it" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bit his lip hard to remain calm. He could not lose his shit there ! Her second arm came around him, squeezing him lightly. He went dead still, tensing and holding his breath. Every fibre of his body was tensed to the maximum, breathing was a real strain. Her left hand came to rest on his right side, pressing down slowly. He bit his lip harder, almost winced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How many?" She asked in the same low whispering tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know, three maybe?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>" Elaborate" It wasn't even close to a command</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Cracked. Maybe one fractured"  He answered automatically, voice flat. He knew what she was doing- staying calm, not pressuring, accepting his emotions, but not letting them override the needed check up and care. Coulson had taught them. Taking care of each other. Making sure the person you rely on was in top condition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Report done?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bruises. Sprains. Minor whiplash" Things one could get from a crashing Quinjet. Damn, Stark would kick his ass for wrecking his baby again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Although his eyes remained on the agent in the bed, he knew Natasha was frowning, contemplating her next move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"How deep was the drop?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dunno"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand pressed down on his injured side and he gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Fifteen.. twenty feet… I don't know.." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed and felt incredibly tired suddenly. Her embrace loosened and he felt cold, shuddered and wanted the gesture back. She brushed her lips over the spot under his ear, causing a full on body shudder that had nothing to do with fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Don't make me Widow bite you. Let's go" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand took his. A few steps later, she stopped again, her look getting firmer, because he hadn't moved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Barton.." An underlying warning in her voice. "He will kick your ass </span>
  <em>
    <span>and mine </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he wakes up. Move"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did. With heavy steps and growing nervousness the farther they went away from Coulson, he followed Natasha. He hardly said a word while he got checked, ignored the raised brows of the medical staff and the comments about why he hadn't come in sooner. He didn't give a damn. Their opinions mattered very little to him. He, quite frankly, didn't give a flying fuck. He only held still through the scans and his ribs being wrapped, because Natasha remained next to him. If he had bolted out he wouldn't have gotten far. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twenty-seven minutes later, after a lot of pressuring to be released and complaining about not even needing anything, his treatments were done. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natasha, who had been whispering with a doctor in the corner for the past five minutes, while making sure he stayed put, sat next to him. She took his hand, pulled it over to rest it in her lap between her own hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I treat you to pizza and a dessert of painkillers. There's a room next to his we can have. You stay put, cooperate and take your pills. Conditions to stay. Or you get sent upstairs to your quarters"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Margherita" He answered only. His go to pizza when he had to eat something, but didn't feel much like it. No need to associate his favorite pizza with unpleasant moment. Plus, in case his stomach would add up out of stress and medication refusal, Margherita was much better. Who liked throwing up pieces of pineapple? Nobody, thank you very much. He moved his hand and entwined his fingers with hers. He was done talking, post mission exhaustion starting to set in, the worry for Coulson the only thing keeping him up at this point. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natasha understood, always did. She leaned over and kissed his temple, called him her </span>
  <em>
    <span>good birdie </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Russian. It made him smile for a moment. A couple minutes passed by in silence, before they left the room towards the smaller one next to Coulson's. Natasha ushered him into the bed, despite his protests, where he faded in an out of light slumber until the pizza arrived. The pills almost made him gag, as usual, but they took the edge off the pain he wouldn't have admitted to having, allowing him to drift in and out of sleep for the following hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By 5am he was woken up by Natasha's hand on his cheek. Brain hazy with sleep, he blinked his eyes open. It took him a moment to understand what she was saying. Coulson had woken up, in pain and only briefly, but he was stable and improving. He tried to sit up, but pressure from her hand on his chest kept him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He remembered you fall" she whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She must have read it on his face, because she smirked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He's okay, in good hands. Stay here, or he'll put you on desk duty. His words, not mine"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He huffed and she seemed amused. He nodded, mumbling a low </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you </span>
  </em>
  <span>at her, accepting the covers she pulled over him. The kiss she placed on his forehead caused his eyes to flutter shut again. Yeah, okay, he could stay put. A couple hours. Natasha got this. He trusted her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good birdie.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn't have felt the amount of comfort from those words like he did, but he was starting to think that he had been slipped something more than painkillers. Within a minute he was back to sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading :) Now leave your wishes in the comments . See you soon &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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